Wednesday, July 28, 2010

For the astute reader, and even the not so astute reader (I'm looking at you "Todd"), the Double D's allegiances have come in question before.

A hybrid of Philly suburbs (aka Delaware), New York bloodline, and a decade in Los Angeles, this intrepid blogger has often sided with the enemy. Rooting for the Giants against the Eagles in the Vet, and living to tell the tale. Hooting and hollering when the Flyers come to Anaheim. Screaming out for a rare Sixers victory while sitting next to the Clippers' FAN. But when two of my beloved teams come face to face, then I have to look deep in my soul. Like at the Forum, when Penn basketball spanked the Trojans (with the late, great John Ritter in attendance). Or this past weekend.

I've got one simple rule when I wear my METS gear to Dodger Stadium - never sit above the Loge. Up in the Reserve, where the air is thinner, the people aren't looking for homeruns. They're looking for VENGEANCE. So with Field seats in hand, I attended two different pathetic Mets losses with an ace up my sleeve. My two-year-old!

I'll give the Dodgers faithful credit: when you're carrying a two year old, you seldom get called the C, F, MF, T, CS, or L Word. (Besides, I think this Mets team is too pathetic for derision.)

Thursday- Bidding will start at $40 for my newest possession!

(Thanks to my son for being young enough to get a copy - kid's finally pulling his weight!). We tried to also get a Matt Kemp, but it was stuck under an umbrella-ella-ella.

For a boy who's not even been around 800 days, DD II is really into his baseball. It's a word he says about 100 times a day, and on Thursday he constantly cheered "Go Go Mets," "David Wright," and the occasional "Baba Booey."

Sharing a hot dog, screaming out together at bad calls, rocking out to the seventh inning stretch - I think I finally get all those Crosby, Stills and Nash songs.

Enough with the Toy Story 3-inspired whimsy. Back to the "game." Perhaps even more perplexing than the Mets lack of run support was the polarizing behavior of the Stadium staff. The man at the ticket booth gave us two field seats for well under face, right next to the Mets perpetually tired bullpen. What a mensch!

Later on, while we stood next to the bullpen so my son can learn about ELMER DESSENS, I got yelled at by an usher to sit down. Despite the fact that ZERO people were behind me. Literally, the last ten rows were completely empty. When I tried to plead my case, the usher was having none of it. Forcing me to jokingly rat on a five year old who ran over to look at the bullpen. Joke was on me - the usher instantly made that kid sit down too. And the poor child glared at me with a "Why Me" look?

Friday and Saturday - Only one place on Earth makes me feel like Leo DiCaprio and Wilt Chamberlain rolled up in one. Comic-Con! The highlights - Flynn's Arcade from Tron...

... and continuing my photo collection of "Hanging with Stormtroopers."

Sunday - Viva Los Dodgers day. Which apparently means NOTHING. No special announcements. No giveaways. In fact, they even closed Comacho's Taco shack, which just felt like a slap on Viva day. At least Anson Williams was there, to provide solace with the world's fastest, least adventurous performances of the Star Spangled Banner and G-d Bless America.

Another day, another lack of Mets run support. At least this time, my wife and some other Mets sympathizers were there. Meaning I could drink some beer. Things were looking up, until I tried to get ketchup on my hot dog...

Oh, the humanity. Things took an even darker turner when I watched as the seventh inning ended while I was but one spot away from getting more beer. They wouldn't even sell me Dipping Dots! Meaning I had to watch the Mets blow another one without even the smallest of buzz to take the edge off.

At least long-time SoSG reader "Todd" had his nutritional needs met.

Photo courtesy of Todd. Sort of. I took it off his Facebook.

All in all, it was a fantastic weekend of time spent with my favorite little man and hanging with the other DD crowd (Dungeons and Dragons).

Though I'm worried that my son's beginning to test his old man. Today at school, one of the hooligan kids kept saying "Go Dodgers." And now, that's all I'm hearing from him.

Which I suppose is fine - next to the Mets, they're my guys! Just have to teach him that if Grandma DeShields, born in Brooklyn, suspects his shifting allegiances, she might knock a zero off his birthday check.